


Dickbabs Week 2018

by theragingstorm



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Happy Ending, Post-Crisis, Pre-Flashpoint, Pre-Relationship, Romance, chronological order, disgusting levels of sappiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-15 04:52:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theragingstorm/pseuds/theragingstorm
Summary: Seven prompts, seven parts of a story, for one particular couple.





	1. I think I may love you (if you give me some time, maybe you'll love me too)

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again! It’s been too long since I posted any new writing, but I’m so happy and honored to be participating in another ship week. 
> 
> So here it is, without further ado. The title’s origin and the song within are both Banks’ “Warm Water.”
> 
> Day 1: Firsts

Dick took a deep breath, gazing up at the house before him as his cab disappeared down the street.

It was just another ordinary house in Gotham Heights: two stories, not too big, painted a neutral white. In almost every way, it didn’t stand out at all from its neighbors lining the suburban streets — except for one. Of the two cars parked in the open garage, one of them was a police car.

He gave that car one last nervous look before he rang the doorbell.

Thirty seconds later, a familiar bespectacled and mustachioed face peered suspiciously at him.

“Yes? Who are you?”

This was ridiculous. He _knew_ the captain. They saw each other almost every night.

“Dick Grayson, sir. Barbara and I are going to lunch and the movies.”

Jim Gordon raised an eyebrow. He was wearing jeans and a white button-up and socks with no shoes, which struck Dick as the sort of clothes a dad _would_ wear. But that didn’t make him any less nervous.

“Dick Grayson? Bruce Wayne’s kid?”

He nodded.

“How do you know Barbara?”

_We’re partners? We’re coworkers? I have a big, unreciprocated crush on her?_

“We’re friends.”

Gordon’s eyebrow didn’t drop. He glanced back over his shoulder, then back at Dick.

“You know she has a boyfriend, right?”

“Yes sir, I know that very well.”

“Dad!” echoed a voice from within the house. “Which teenage boy are you haranguing now?”

“That would be me, Babs,” Dick called through the door. “Apparently, your dad thinks I stand a legitimate chance as a romantic rival. Your thoughts?”

She ducked under her dad’s arm and stood on the porch before him, her hands on her hips, smirking. He silently caught his breath.

“In your dreams, kid. Only in your dreams.”

Right then, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Her long, vibrant hair was tied in a ponytail, she was wearing a blue cotton dress and black flats, and with her toned, athletic arms and legs, she looked unfairly awesome.

“‘Kid’? You’re two and a half years older than me, not ten.”

“Yeah, but y’know...you’re still a kid. And I think I might be ten years older than you _mentally_.”

“Oh, right.” He slapped himself in the forehead. “Because eighteen is _soooo_ grown-up and mature.”

Gordon sighed, waving his daughter off.

“I get it, you two are just friends. Alright, Babs, what time will you be back?”

“Three-thirty or so.” She tilted her head back slightly to kiss her dad on the cheek. “I’ll see you then.”

“Take care.” Gordon leaned against the doorway.

Barbara then took Dick by the hand — most likely unaware of the fluttering this caused in his chest — and darted towards the garage, where her car lay waiting.

 

* * *

 

Jim Gordon lingered a little while as his daughter backed out of the garage and out onto the street. Through the passenger seat window, he watched Dick continue chattering with her, both of them clearly playfully teasing each other, a big grin on the fifteen-year-old boy’s face.

Jim shook his head, walking to the mailbox and back to retrieve the paper. He lingered only a minute longer at the door, watching the car disappear down the road.

“They’re exactly the same even when they’re _not_ Batgirl and Robin,” he mused to himself.

Then he shut the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

“I cannot believe this.”

“Dick, I swear, if you keep bringing it up —”

“Your dad bought you a _minivan_. You’re eighteen years old, and you drive a _minivan_.”

Without taking her eyes off the road, Barbara grabbed a map of New Jersey out of the glove compartment and winged it at him. He ducked, laughing.

“That’s it, we’re changing the station.” She then reached over and clicked the radio dial, cutting off the Top Forty song in favor of some female singer of the indie rock persuasion. “We’re listening to _my_ music now.”

“Bossy, bossy, bossy.” He folded his arms and rolled his eyes. “No wonder he got you the mom-mobile, _Mom_.”

This time, the corner of New England and its major highways nailed him in the forehead.

“Ow! Jesus!”

“I thought Bruce was Jewish.”

“He is.” Dick clutched his forehead. “Do you know how pissed off or in how much pain he or I have to be to swear on the name of someone else’s god?”

“From the looks of it, not much.” But she reached over and rubbed the sore spot for him nonetheless. The corner of her mouth twitched up. “So, this diner you insisted we go to, it has the best chocolate milkshakes in the city?”

He lifted his right hand.

“My hand to God. And this time, I do mean Adonai.”

Much to his surprise, she actually burst out laughing. His heart seemed to stutter in his chest.

“Wow. I think...wow, that is the first time you’ve laughed at one of my jokes.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Her smile didn’t drop. He suddenly felt very aware that the woman on the radio was singing a love song.

“I don’t plan on getting used to it. But I also don’t plan on stopping to try and make it more regular.” He cocked his eyebrow at her.

Her smile became a little drier, a little more crooked.

“You’re gonna have to work pretty hard at that then, Boy Wonder.”

“Oh, I know.”

 

* * *

 

“No, you’re the one who doesn’t get it!”

Dick leaned all the way back in his chair, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged, still a little playful. “What don’t I get?”

Around them, classic rock played while waitresses in pink uniforms bustled around with platters of chicken wings or steaks. Barbara faced him head-on, resting her elbow on the booth and gesturing one-handed.

“Your problem is, when you’re with Bruce, you’re embarrassed to have fun.” She paused. “Your other problem is that you actually like the Star Wars prequels.”

“Okay, now between the two of us, who refuses to have fun?”

“They’re terrible!”

“Name one thing about them that’s terrible.”

“The excessive CGI, the cheesy dialogue, the overcrowded plots, the rushed relationship, the erratic pacing —”

“That’s everything that makes them good!”

Barbara groaned, dropping her head.

“I’m despairing. You’re making me despair, Dick.”

He laughed for a moment, then sobered up as something occurred to him.

“That being said: why did Padme fall for kid Anakin when Obi-Wan was right there?”

She lifted her head again, then raised an eyebrow.

“Dick. They were written and directed by a _man_.”

“Point taken.”

“Still though...he was nine and she was fourteen. What was up with that?”

“To be fair, I doubt even he would’ve guessed that they’d get married someday.”

Their waitress reappeared then, two huge chocolate milkshakes, topped with generous amounts of thick whipped cream and vivid maraschino cherries, balanced on her tray. She beamed at the two of them as she placed their drinks on the booth.

“This is what you kids wanted?”

They both nodded.

“Okay, here y’go. Enjoy the rest of your date.”

Barbara turned scarlet as the older woman walked away. At the same time, an odd feeling rushed through his chest. What was it...a thrill, but mixed with longing?

“Dick...”

“Yeah?”

“You realize this isn’t a date, right?”

He swallowed hard, trying hard to force down the feelings in his chest. Instead, he smiled at her.

“Of course it’s not. It’s just, y’know, we’re hanging out.”

She sighed softly, and he kept the smile on his face, still forcing away the ache he felt at her relief.

“And we only hang out together during our ‘night jobs,’” he continued. “I just thought...it would be nice to have this, whatever this is.”

“Whatever this is?” Her eyes looked very green. “Well, I guess...this is the first time we’ve been together while we’re both off the job.”

“So what does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” Still looking at him, she fidgeted slightly in her seat. “I think though, that us hanging out together, outside of work, that makes us...friends?”

Dick kept his gaze trained on her without saying anything for a moment.

“I’d be very lucky just to be friends with you,” he said gently.

Barbara started, then blinked a few times. Then she broke into another, genuine smile that warmed him to the bone.

“Well, then it’s official.”

She extended her hand across the table, and he shook it.

“And by the way, thanks for taking me on our very first not-date.”

“Yeah, I’m loving our first not-date,” he replied, his smile becoming real. He lifted his enormous milkshake glass. “To many more firsts, then?”

“I’ll drink to that.”

With great care, they clinked glasses. When he drank his, the taste was as satisfying as always, but even more so was the look of wide-eyed delight on her face, and the long groan of pleasure that followed.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that sound was you cheating on your boyfriend.”

She flicked her napkin at him, but the fact that she was still smiling belied it this time.

“Don’t push it, Boy Wonder.”

 

* * *

 

They sat right next to each other in the dark of the movie theater. He’d already seen that particular film two weeks prior with Donna, Wally, Roy, and Garth, so nearly all of his attention was focused on Barbara.

Even though they’d just had a double cheeseburger and a serving of onion rings each, they were still athletes and so they also split a bag of popcorn, strong fingers occasionally brushing against each other as they rummaged around within. Even though her hand was thoroughly covered in butter and she was kind of hogging the food, it still made his heart stutter every time she touched him —

— And then again and again whenever she murmured commentary about the fight choreography, when she gasped during tense scenes, but most of all, whenever the female lead did something cool and she whispered “yes” really excitedly under her breath.

Dick’s fingers scraped the greasy bottom of the popcorn bag with fifteen minutes to go until the climax. He quickly cleaned himself off with a handful of napkins, and with his hand unoccupied, glanced over at Barbara’s unoccupied shoulders.

She was thoroughly engrossed with the events flickering across the big screen. It might’ve been the perfect time to spontaneously hold her, take her by surprise, like the first time he’d kissed her some months ago.

Instead, he turned back to the movie. It was almost the good part, after all.

 

* * *

 

The drive back in her minivan (he was not calling it anything but the “mom-mobile” from now on) was filled with more chatter, about the movie, about their friends, about all the weird books people had checked out from the library recently.

“So what was it like working with the Black Canary?”

“Oh, awesome in every way.” She muscled past an SUV and pulled down into Gotham Heights. “She’s just as great as you think she is.”

“Lucky,” he sighed.

“Yeah. I doubt any kind of partnership between us is ever gonna be a regular thing though; she’s got obligations in the JLA and the two of us together are kind of mismatched and crazy, you know?”

“Sounds like me and my team,” he grinned. “You ever think you might want to lead a team? You’ve got the bossiness for it.”

“And you’ve got the stupid cockiness for it,” she retorted with a smirk.

This time, he tossed the tissues in the glove compartment at her, which she caught one-handed. Both of them were still laughing by the time she moved slowly down her driveway, coming to a neat halt inside the garage. They clambered out and walked up to the door with shoulders brushing, her ponytail sweeping against his t-shirt.

When she came to a halt at the top of the steps, she hesitated. Turning towards him, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind one ear, giving him a long look.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” she asked.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll take the bus, or send for another cab.”

The look continued for another few seconds. Her green eyes almost shone.

Then she took a step down and wrapped him up in a hug.

Dick was so shocked it took him a moment to remember to hug her back. But he did, standing up on his tiptoes and burying his face against her shoulder, smelling cotton and the sweet flowery scent of her shampoo. She was warm against him, with her soft clothes and firm arms pressed up and holding on tight. He didn’t need to jeopardize what he had with her with an unwanted move; she was _holding him._

“You know,” he mumbled, “this is also...our first hug.” The first time she’d touched him. “Though hopefully not the last.”

“That is an incredible misuse of the word ‘hopefully.’” She gave him one last squeeze before she pulled away. “I had a really great first not-date. Thank you.”

“Well, y’know, when your legal guardian is a billionaire, you might as well show a girl a nice time.” His heart thundered. “So, uh, I’ll see you around?”

Barbara ascended the last step again and withdrew her keys, opening the door. She gave him one more smile.

“Definitely.”

The door clicked shut. Dick let out a long, soft breath.

Maybe it didn’t matter that she didn’t feel the same way about him. He had this with her. She was his coworker, his friend now too. He had a lot already.

Besides, he didn’t know what it would be yet, but in the years ahead of them...wasn’t there a lot more still to come?


	2. I can finally smile with you, I can’t help but shine today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one takes place just after Nightwing #58. The title’s from JP Cooper’s “Good Friend” (appropriate, right?).
> 
> Day 2: Best Friends

They made an odd sight, the man and woman sitting on her couch. Both of them were very beautiful: blue-eyed with strong, lean bodies and long legs. Both covered in bandages and butterfly tape. Dick was shirtless and closing the stitches on a long cut down his companion’s back like he’d been taught by an expert — which he had. Dinah was topless too, a line of bruises around her neck, with the back of her bra unclipped and her long blonde hair pulled over her shoulder; grimacing only slightly as the needle pierced her skin.

Barbara sighed slightly, retreating a little further into the kitchen.

“Thank you both, for coming to make sure he’s still okay. I mean, I know it’s been a couple days since it happened, but —”

“Of course we did. We couldn’t ignore our best friend.”

“Or the woman who holds our livelihoods in her hands.”

The other man and woman who stood before her were both still in their uniforms; fully dressed and unscathed by battle. Wally had pulled his cowl off, his red curls sticking up in all directions, and Donna had hung her lasso and sword on the coatrack, like a civilized person, but Barbara still felt a little odd next to them in her jeans and t-shirt. Especially since they knew Dick as well as she did, but they had no idea what her name even was.

“And you know what? This was just typical Dick, too,” Wally groaned, rolling his eyes fondly. “Running headlong into danger, not calling for backup because he doesn’t want to endanger anyone, getting frickin’ kidnapped, so that his girlfriend and her friend have to come rescue him.”

“Yeah,” Barbara murmured, lost in thought and not hearing herself. “What an idiot. You gotta love him.”

“You do,” Donna said, raising her eyebrows. “You really do.”

The three of them were quiet for a few seconds while Dick finished Dinah’s stitches.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Dinah pointed out.

“It was the least I could do for you, after you came to save me.” He snipped and tied off the thread. “Dinah, I know we’re not super close —”

“Too bad, handsome.”

Barbara rolled her eyes, half-smiling.

“Anyway, what you did was really nice. And you mean a lot to her. I mean, I know she doesn’t always say it, but she really does care about you a lot. So...let me buy you coffee tomorrow before you leave Gotham? It’s the least I can do for you saving my life.”

Dinah twisted her head around, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re a good kid,” she replied, her voice warm. “Sure. I’ll take a coffee. Black with honey. Medium roast. Write that shit down, boy.”

Dick laughed, but he really did pull out his phone and tap into the notes app.

“It’s easy to love him,” Donna smiled as the three of them pulled all the way into the kitchen. “Even if you do want to shake him sometimes.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure Dinah would tell you that she wants to shake _me_ sometimes,” Barbara pointed out, putting the kettle on and digging around for teabags. “It’s a prerogative of being close to a Bat.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Wally grinned. In the second since she’d last seen him, he’d gone into her fridge, rummaged around, and came up with her leftover pizza, which he was eating cold straight out of the Tupperware.

“He does that at Dick’s apartment, too.”

“I thought as much.”

Donna’s smile flickered then, to be replaced by something a little more serious.

“What is it?”

“It’s odd to see you in person,” she admitted. “Not just to hear your voice all distorted. You seem more...like what Dick sees you as. More like the person I know he fell in love with.”

Barbara froze halfway through lifting the kettle off the stove. Wally nearly choked on his pizza crust.

“Donna! You said we were gonna do this gently!”

“That _was_ gently. Doing things like this with Dick we always have to beat him over the head with the truth —”

“Hold up.” Barbara lifted a finger. “Dick...why are we talking about that Dick loves me?”

Her voice was steady, but only just. Her heart began to race, and she wasn’t sure whether it was out of fear or exuberance.

“Because of course he loves you. Don’t you know that?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat, then continued honestly: “Yes, I do know that.”

She might not have acknowledged it out loud before. But she did know it.

Her hands shook as she thought about that, as she poured the tea into five mugs.

“Well, do you love him?” Donna asked.

“Pretty sure you do,” Wally interjected. “You even said it yourself, you _gotta_ love him.”

“I didn’t — I didn’t say anything. And even if I did, it’s none of your business.”

They exchanged looks.

“Yeah, no, she _is_ worse than him.”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

“Goodbye livelihoods,” Wally murmured, then said aloud: “Look, you love him. He loves you. We’re superheroes, life is short. You should get in there, in the living room right now, and kiss him. Don’t do anything freaky yet though, nobody wants him to bust himself up any more.”

“ _Wally —_ ”

“Listen, Oracle, please.” Donna got on her knees, bracing her hands on Barbara’s armrests. “I know Dick. And I know he’s been pining over you for a while now. If you really do love him, you should go for it. I promise, he’ll be more than good to you.”

“I know.” Barbara’s voice was quiet. “I know he will. I know who he is. That’s the problem.”

Donna drew back slightly, as though she were considering something.

“Look, I know love is rough. And scary. And sometimes you’re not always in control, and sometimes it hurts, and sometimes it doesn’t work out. No one knows that better than me.”

Wally grimaced sympathetically.

“But please...” The younger woman tucked a strand of silky black hair behind her ear. The emotion all but shone out of her eyes. “You should do it anyway. Let him know that you love him.”

“And you should know where we’re coming from,” Wally agreed, “‘Cause the three of us, of all people, know it’s worth it all to love him.”

Barbara thought about all their not-dates over the last few months. About the quiet moments, about how they’d never stopped checking up on each other. About the new ways she’d been thinking about him, about how she might’ve fallen _all the way_. About the kiss they’d shared, when he’d woken up after she’d saved him.

“You two, in a lot of ways, are just like Dinah.”

Donna smiled, and Wally laughed a little bit, relieved.

“She _is_ a smart lady,” he said. “So does this mean you’re not going to destroy our livelihoods?”

“Stop eating my leftovers and I’ll think about it.”

He hid the container of spaghetti primavera behind his back and tried to look innocent.

Donna kept smiling as she helped Barbara carry the mugs into the living room, then passed one over to Dinah, and one to her best friend. Dick wrapped around it gratefully, holding her hand a second longer than he needed to, before Wally came over and he wrapped his friend in a hug.

Dinah looked over at Barbara, and must’ve seen something in her expression.

“Hey, kids, you wanna see Oracle’s workspace? With the computers? That shit is fucking insane.”

Donna and Wally caught on immediately.

“Sure, I’ll come.”

“I’ve wanted to see what her place looks like for ages.”

The three of them very casually got to their feet, and began to walk away. Just as they rounded the corner, Dinah threw her a very unsubtle wink over her shoulder.

Barbara spared a moment to roll her eyes.

Then she carefully lifted herself out of her wheelchair and up next to Dick, setting their tea mugs down on the coffee table. He glanced over at her, then looked over once more...forgetting that time to look away.

“I know you want to talk about it.”

“About what?”

She began to play with a strand of her hair.

“The kiss.”

He blinked in surprise, drawing back a bit.

“No. What’s there to talk about? I thought it...I thought that it meant...I guess not.”

“What?”

He looked down, then sighed.

“I thought that it meant that you loved me back.”

Her breath caught.

“But you know, if you don’t, then that’s okay.” He sighed again, but continued: “I meant it. I _do_ love you. I really do. But if you don’t —”

“I do.”

He froze.

“I...I think that I _do_ , Dick.” Barbara took a deep breath. “That note I wrote you? I meant every word of it. I — I can — I’m happy when I’m with you, when I’m close to you. You make me happy; I just like _being_ with you. I can really see myself with you in the future. I...Dick, I love you.”

Dick stared at her, blinking slowly, almost spellbound.

Then he broke into a huge grin, grabbing her and pulling her into a tight embrace. She almost sobbed with delight, hugging him back, burying her face into his shoulder —

— only pulling away to kiss him again.

He tasted sweet, and though his hands were calloused and his skin laced with scars, his lips were softer than any other man she’d kissed. One of his hands still held her broken back tenderly, the other caressed over her hair.

They didn’t break apart for a while, but when they did, they were both still smiling.

“Okay. When you’re all healed up, I’m taking you to dinner and a movie, _minus_ the assassins and mercenaries.”

“And I’m taking you to that bookstore you love. And for saving my life, I’ll buy you all the old books you want.”

“You know me so well,” she murmured, tipping her head until their foreheads brushed.

Someone “awwed” softly.

Both of them looked around.

Their three guests were all looking around the doorway into the living room, beaming triumphantly, not even bothering to duck away or pretend like they hadn’t just been eavesdropping.

“You were there the whole time, weren’t you?”

“Oh, we definitely were,” Dinah said blithely.

Barbara rolled her eyes again, this time rather spectacularly. Dick just laughed.

“Well, c’mon, sit here with us.” He patted the couch. “Since you guys are some of our designated wingmen and wingwomen, we can hang out while Dinah and I heal up — order pizza, watch house-hunting shows. You know, the ones with the dumb white people.”

“At least one out of two of those applies to most of us,” Wally pointed out as they headed over. “Definitely just one in _her_ case, even if she did put that kiss off way too long.”

“Thanks _so_ much, Wally.” Barbara rolled her eyes without heat, lettting her boyfriend wrap his arm around her.

Dinah grinned, curling up on her other side while Donna curled in on Dick’s other side. Wally, unperturbed, sat down on the floor in the middle of everyone, still beaming a little bit to himself.

While the TV played and Dinah dialed the pizza place, Barbara couldn’t help but lean in a little closer. He sighed contentedly and wrapped an arm around her, leaning his head on her shoulder.

“It’s good to be with our best friends,” he murmured.

She looked around at them, then back up at him.

“Yeah. All of them.”


	3. the season of cold making warmth a divine intervention (you are safe here you know now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Hanukkah’s over, but it’s still the season, and I really needed to write a holiday special. Title from “The Atheist Christmas Carol” by Vienna Teng.
> 
> Day 3: Domesticity

Winter had settled in over the Wayne estate.

Through the kitchen window, through a haze of savory steam, she could see the grounds completely blanketed in white, the city skyline black in the distance. Several inches of fresh powder were radiant under the moonlight, while icicles unsheathed themselves from the manor roof, and the deep blue sheen of dusk had fallen over it all.

Barbara peeked in the oven, seeing at once that Alfred’s goose still had over two hours to go. She checked in on everything, poked the corners of the yet-uncooked latkes into more proper circles, gave the gravy a stir, meticulously sprinkling in a little more flour and black pepper.

She was so absorbed in the food that she didn’t see her boyfriend when he came in, or at all until the water in the sink was switched on. She jumped a little bit in her chair, then peered over at him.

Dick was wearing a god-awful black sweater patterned with neon-blue cartoon snowmen, which he rolled up to the elbows before he started bathing the dirty dishes in a blast of hot water and soap. As he scrubbed, he looked over at her.

“You know, the apron’s a good look on you.”

Barbara flushed and tugged at the strings of the aforementioned apron — a birthday gift to Bruce from Diana. It was patterned to look like the front of the Batsuit, complete with ridiculously bulging pecs and abs.

“I mean, considering how realistic it is...”

She lightly shoulder-bumped him, before rolling up her own sleeves and joining him at the sink. The two of them each scrubbed at an implement, putting them one at a time on the drying rack in perfect sync.

“How’re the kids?”

“Tim’s good. He’s killing it at dreidel, let me tell you, he took all my gelt in like five minutes. And Cass...well, she’s just enthralled by all of it.”

“Of course she is.” Barbara wiped her sponge along the potato peeler. “It’s her first real holiday season. Last year doesn’t count; she couldn’t speak and this was still No Man’s Land.”

“And this year, we get to go all out.” With a flourish, he set the last of the dishes on the rack. “ _Really_ all out. You should’ve seen Alfred’s face when I got down all the decorations from the attic. Tim brought over a stocking he hasn’t used since he was five.”

The tangible glee in his voice made her smile. She dried her hands on the apron before slipping it off, then began to roll to the door.

“So I’ve noticed. This place looks insane.”

“Judgy, much? What...” He paused, leaning against the door and smirking down at her. “No visions of sugarplums dancing in your head?”

Barbara smirked back. Then she playfully smacked his backside, making him jump and yelp and burst out into delighted laughter.

“None, except for yours.”

“Well, I’m happy to provide, Babs.” He bent to lightly kiss her forehead. “As always, happy to make you happy.”

“And that’s _all_ I need this holiday season,” she teased gently, her eyes crinkling.

He gave her a crooked smile before heading out, rubbing where he’d gotten smacked. Barbara watched him go fondly, her heart soft, before her gaze wandered and began to encompass the broad sweep of the living room.

The tree in the center of the room brushed the ceiling of the grand twenty-foot room, bedecked with ornaments and lights in every color, topped with a figure of Superman as an angel — Dick had undoubtedly picked that out, she thought, smiling broader. Presents were already laid out beneath. Mistletoe hung from every other doorway. In the window, Martha Wayne’s fifty-year-old silver menorah glowed, every candle lit. The whole place smelled of evergreen, and of the smoke emitting from the huge fire that blazed in the old stone hearth.

Bruce sat on one side of the mahogany coffee table with Tim on the other. Bruce in his usual black turtleneck was spinning the dreidel, and Tim in a red-and-green sweater as ugly as Dick’s was presiding over a huge pile of gelt. Alfred resided on one of the armchairs, sipping delicately at a cup of eggnog, and presiding over drinks for everyone else. Over by the fire, Cass just stood, staring in awe at everything around her, almost unsure.

But before Barbara’s eyes, Dick walked over to the younger woman, offering his hand. She took it, letting him wrap an arm around her and guide her over to where everyone else was. His touch was gentle, and she looked up at him with trust in her dark eyes. As Dick let go, Cass then joined the others, sneaking up behind Tim and stealing a handful of his gelt — while Bruce raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing — before she snuggled up on the other armchair. Alfred reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, and she sighed contentedly.

Barbara put a hand to her chest, her eyes prickling. She had to swallow hard as she ducked back into the kitchen, taking a moment, trying hard to steady her breathing.

When she finally did roll back in, they all looked up and noticeably brightened.

“Care for a round?” Tim offered.

“Nightcap, Miss Barbara?”

Cass gave her a little wave, and a little smile.

“I like my chocolate in my own hands, thanks,” she replied, unable to stop herself from smiling too. “But I’ll take _you_ up on that, Alfie.”

He handed her her own glass of eggnog, which he then spiked liberally with rum. She then rolled over to where Dick was standing near the armchair, then the both of them moved over and up onto the old, soft couch.

She leaned into him, resting her cheek on his shoulder, soaking in his warmth. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Cass and Tim swap excited glances.

“That’s the last of it,” Bruce grumbled, pushing over what was left of his gelt. Tim counted it up, then frowned.

“I know I had more.”

“Must’ve been mistaken,” Cass said innocently.

“I guess...”

“Cassie, how’s training been going?” Dick asked.

She punched her fist into her palm a few time, shadowboxed once, then gave him a thumbs-up.

“Really? That well? Things must be kind of rough, huh?”

She nodded.

“Wow, sounds like Bludhaven. You have enough bad guys to beat up over here, too?”

A shrug.

“Well, I hope you’ll find someone challenging enough soon.”

“Ah,” Barbara said lightly, gently poking him in the ribs, “now I see why you get along so well with her. You talk enough for the both of you.”

He pouted at her. She laughed and pushed her glasses up her nose.

“What about you, Tim? How’re things?”

“Don’t have midterms till January; it’s so nice to not have to study over the holidays.” He eagerly peeled the wrapping off his gelt. “The friends are doing well, super and non-super alike, everyone seems to be pulling through since the cataclysm. Even Steph — back me up here, Cass.”

Cass nodded, smiling.

“Stephanie is...much happier.”

“She really is.” Tim paused, then added shyly, “It’s nice to be able to answer honestly. Dad and Dana still get super nervous if I seem down at all or mention our other life. Dad seems to take it personally.”

“Nothing to do with him,” Bruce grumbled, “He should be happy to talk to you.”

“Eh, I dunno, I’m not exactly great company.”

Barbara glanced sharply at Dick, who nodded.

“Least...you talk,” Cass murmured.

“Alright, that’s it.” Dick held up his hands. “Both of you. Come up here now. Keep company with us.”

Giggling a little nervously, both teenagers clambered up on either side of them; Cass burrowing down next to Barbara, Tim next to Dick. A little rare smile flickered over Bruce’s lips.

Barbara wrapped her other arm around Cass.

“You two know we care about you a lot, right?” Dick said gently, and Tim blushed.

“Because we do,” Barbara said firmly. Cass ducked her head.

Bruce and Alfred exchanged looks. Bruce raised an eyebrow, then inclined his head towards the old butler, who nodded in satisfaction, like the two of them were concluding a previous, private conversation.

“Indeed. The two of you are quite the naturals with Master Timothy and Miss Cassandra,” Alfred observed. “One might think you two had had years of experience with young people.”

“Well, I don’t know about him.” Barbara stroked her hand over Cass’s shoulder. In between her protégée and her boyfriend, she was perfectly content. “But I know _I_ do.”

“I’m a quick learner.” Dick affectionately ruffled Tim’s hair; the boy, still blushing, batted his hand away with no real heat.

“One can hope,” Bruce remarked. “You’re going to need the experience with children.”

Barbara turned and stared at him for a few seconds.

“Oh God. You’re not getting more sidekicks, are you?”

Bruce let out a very long huff.

“Damn, B, you should’ve capped off at five,” Dick laughed, “God knows the Batcave’s crowded enough.”

Tim and Cass exchanged looks of their own. Cass shrugged emphatically, and her stolen gelt spilled from the folds of her sweater.

“I knew it!” Tim yelled, reaching across Dick’s lap. Cass tried to scramble away, perching on the back of the couch like a monkey while Tim tried to clamber up, putting his hand on Barbara’s head and his foot in Dick’s lap.

“Ow! Watch the foot, watch the foot!”

“Timothy! Cassandra!”

Dick shoved Tim’s foot off him.

“Kids! Both of you _sit down!_ ” he instructed.

They froze. But didn’t sit.

“He said _sit_. Sit _down_ ,” Barbara ordered. “ _Now_. Or no dessert for either of you!”

Both of them finally clambered back into their seats, looking sheepish, like children chastened by their parents.

“Yes, that experience shall be _quite_ necessary,” Alfred murmured into his cup.

Bruce gave the teenagers a perfunctory warning glare, before glancing down. Barbara noticed that his smile had come back, wry this time. He was quiet for a few moments, still apparently lost in happy thought.

“We still have some time on the food,” he said roughly. “Since we clearly can’t sit quietly here, maybe we should go to the home theater.”

The kids perked up again, still almost shy.

“What are you going to watch?” Barbara asked. “What with an Irish Catholic, an Anglican, an ethnic Jew, a raised Jew, an atheist, and an undecided possible convert; it’s like the start of a distasteful joke around here.”

Tim raised his hand like he was still in school.

“Can we watch _Die Hard_ , please?”

“Oh, of course,” Alfred said dryly. “In trying to find a compromise between religions, we default to violence. Sounds about correct.”

“ _Die Hard_ transcends religious boundaries, Alfie,” Dick grinned. “But I _do_ think we should watch _It’s A Wonderful Life_ again after dinner.”

Bruce hummed, clearly satisfied with the compromise. Meanwhile, Cass looked at them questioningly.

“Oh, you haven’t seen it yet? You’re gonna love it.”

“Yeah, Cassie, it’s the story of one person doing all the work and making everyone else look useless. It’s the story of yours and Barbara’s lives.”

Barbara couldn’t help but laugh again, which brought grins to the kids’ faces. They warmed up further as Tim continued chattering about the various points of the _Die Hard_ series, both of them getting up and walking off towards the home theater. Alfred followed, reminding them not to run indoors. Bruce followed more slowly, casting a backward glance at Barbara and his son — an approving sort of glance.

Dick began to get to his feet, but she stopped him.

“What? Don’t you want to see the movie?”

“I do. Just a few minutes...”

He got what she meant; sitting back down and snuggling back up against her. One arm wrapped around her waist.

“I love how much my family loves you.”

“I’m happy that they, and you, have become a family. Bruce’s spectacular child-rearing problems and all your issues and everything aside.”

“Well, at the risk of sounding like a Lifetime movie, it’s proof that it’s relationships that matter in making a family. Not blood.”

She thought affectionately of her father as he said that.

“I doubt anyone here minds that you sound like a Lifetime movie. Everyone knows Alfred watches them and drinks Chardonnay.”

“I think it’s Pinot Grigio.”

“Whatever it is.”

Dick kissed her temple.

“Anyway, of course they’re family to me. And it’s sweet of you to think of us.”

“Of course I do.” She felt very aware of his skin, of the fabric of his clothing. “I love them. And I love _you_ , you know.”

She looked up and faced him, and his smile was radiant.

“I love you too. I don’t know if I’ve told you yet, but thanks for coming over tonight, for joining my family.”

“I’m only happy to join your family.”

They looked at each other for a long time after she said that. And she wondered at how easy it had been to meld into Bruce’s clan, at their fathers and the kids that were like his siblings, how right Dick felt in her home, and she in his...

...And she almost melted into the next kiss.

Though the world outside was veiled in blue-black and buried in quiet snow, the living room was laden with golden-framed oil paintings and well-used antique furniture, the crackling fireplace a gentle kind of background noise. From the kitchen, the rich smells of their holiday dinner wafted.

They pulled apart slightly, just enough to sit nestled at each others’ sides.

“We should go soon,” he breathed. “Don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Yeah.” She bowed her head slightly, her smile quiet and content. “Happy holidays and yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.”

He helped her back into her chair, and, at each others’ sides, both headed out.

She thought it might have been her imagination, but Wayne Manor seemed to have become a lot less big and cold and empty over the years.

Just like her own home had.


	4. starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, I think, was the easiest one for me to write. Title from Taylor Swift’s “Call It What You Want” (because it’s her birthday!).
> 
> Day 4: Dance

It had been years now since Barbara had lost her legs.

Since then, she hadn’t run. She hadn’t performed gymnastics. She hadn’t swung off a building with intent to fall and fly.

She hadn’t danced.

But she awoke that morning from her favorite dream, from spinning around on a dance floor, lights flashing in a thousand colors, loud music pulsing joyfully, sometimes in strangers’ arms, always on her own working legs. Barbara awoke to her alarm and to early morning sun, shining dirty-white through her windows.

She took just a moment to sigh softly to herself,.

Then she hauled herself out of the bed and wheeled off to the bathroom. She couldn’t feel the drum of the water on her thighs and calves and feet, but she felt it on her face and arms and chest, smelled her lemon-lavender soap, felt the steam and the hot water wrap her up as warmly as her duvet.

She quickly grabbed coffee and breakfast, just as the sun rose fully over the smoggy skyline. In jeans and her comfiest sweater, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail, she rolled to her computer station and quickly absorbed herself in her work, the work she loved, relaxing at last. After all, she had created it herself, her work, her _world_ , out of nothing.

It wasn’t until some hours later that out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the figure alight on her balcony. Her slight relaxed smile grew further until she was almost laughing, pressing her hand to her mouth.

“You slept yesterday, right?” she greeted him, opening the glass door. “I get suspicious when you turn up in the morning in uniform.”

“Caught a seven hour nap between work and ‘work.’” He put the word in air-quotes, black-and-blue gloved fingers framing a crooked grin. “I’m okay, love.”

She beckoned him in, watching him peel off his mask — revealing bright blue eyes.

“I’m glad to hear it.” She took a breath. “I missed you, Dick.”

“It’s only been a few days.” He looked down, his smile twitching further upwards. “But I missed you too.”

Barbara felt what was left of her tension melt away completely as Dick bent down to kiss her, warmth flooding her chest. She clasped his back and shoulders, breathing him in.

When they finally broke apart, she said:

“So what’s the occasion?”

“None, really. Is it so strange to want to spend the morning with a stunning woman?”

She blushed, even as she muttered:

“Morning’s almost over, Boy Genius.”

“Afternoon, then.” He blinked languidly, his long eyelashes almost brushing his cheekbones. “You can do your thing, and I can keep you company.”

“Today’s your day off?”

“Yep.”

She gave him another kiss.

“I’ve got a few more things to finish up, but after that you can have your afternoon with me.”

“I can work with that.”

They pulled apart again, and she rolled back to her workstation. Soon she was again bathed in the green glow of her code, her headset tuned to the voices of their community. Her heartbeat was slow, steady.

But a few minutes later, she heard a melody coming from behind her. Despite herself, she pulled off her headset and turned to look.

Dick had made himself at home in her kitchen, which looked a little strange while he was still in full uniform. He drank coffee out of her favorite Wonder Woman mug and boiled water for spaghetti, taking her leftover sauce out of the fridge and heating it on a different burner. In the meantime, his phone was docked on the counter, playing music, and he was humming along to those songs. Songs that she had never heard before.

She kept watching him as he waited for the water heat up up. His humming was taking his whole body now, swaying, tilting his head back and forth in time.

Mouthing the words, he swiveled his hips, then began to turn in place. He swayed gracefully, moving his arms in time, gently stepping to each beat, effusive as he always was as that woman singer crooned in the background.

He spun, feet moving lightly, more quickly, eyes closed in rapture. A melancholy ache came back from her just-wakefulness, longing taking root in her heart and spreading down into her gut.

She sighed again. A little louder than she’d intended.

The music didn’t stop, but Dick did. He froze in place, then turned back to face her.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” She tucked a spare strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re still a good dancer. Nothing’s changed since your senior prom.”

“Well, even though you were my date — and always my first choice for the role — then too, I’d like to think a _few_ things have changed.” He chuckled a bit, then became serious again. “But really, Babs, c’mon. You can talk to me.”

She didn’t say anything for over a minute. Just sat there, not quite able to look him in the eye.

“I don’t know, I just...” She took a deep breath; the words fell out. “I miss it. Like I miss running, and feeling carpet and grass under bare feet, and everything else, I miss...dancing.”

Dick turned off the burners and walked out of the kitchen, toward her. He knelt before her wheelchair, folding his arms and resting them on her unfeeling thighs.

“Tell me.”

“I felt strongest when I was doing sports, and most confident when I was Batgirl, and you know better than anyone else how much I loved flying...but I don’t think I ever felt more beautiful than when I was dancing.” Barbara took another breath. “It’s okay, though. I’ll always miss it, but I can live without it. Just like everything else.”

He looked at her.

“You gave me back flying at the circus that night, Dick, and I’ll always be grateful to you for that. But really. It’s okay. I don’t need the other stuff back. I’m still strong, I’m still confident. What’s more, I _know_ I’m smart and I know I’m capable so much better than I did then. I don’t need to be beautiful.”

Dick kept looking.

“You _are_ strong and smart and capable, and I love all that about you,” he said quietly at last. “But...it might not matter, but...you are _so_ beautiful.”

Barbara’s breath stuttered. Her next words were almost choked.

“So...so you’ve told me.”

“I meant it. Every time.” He reached up and touched her cheek. His expression was impossibly soft. “Did you not think I did? I did. You are. I don’t care if you’re different now. I love you.”

She blinked rapidly, lost for words. He got to his feet, a sudden sparkle lighting his eyes.

“Come on.” He extended his hands.

“What are you —?”

“You don’t have to give it up. You can still have it now, in your new life. Like what we did before. Like flying.”

“Dick...”

“Trust me.”

She hesitated only for a moment.

Then she stretched out her own arms —

— allowing him to pick her up, just as another, gentler song began. He wrapped one arm around her waist, letting her brace one of her hands against his shoulder, before he took her other hand in his own. She levitated in his arms, their faces only inches apart.

They swayed together. Their hips and chests flush, green eyes gazing into blue. A swell of emotion surged through her chest; she made another choked noise and broke into a new smile. Dick beamed; spinning her around and dipping her ever so slightly, her hair swishing around her face.

The song progressed, the singer’s voice swelling with happiness.

He pulled her back up and they spun in another circle, and she laughed aloud, wrapping her arm around his back and holding him as close as she could. Their fingers were still interlocked, and she could feel every callous on his hand; pressed up against him, she could feel his heart beating clear and strong even through an inch of Kevlar.

The swaying became slower, until they were just rocking back and forth...

...just close. Just together, dancing.

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes.

“I love you.”

He kissed the top of her head.

“Told you you still got it.”

The song came to an end, but they remained like that for a minute. Swaying, slower and slower until they finally came to a halt.

She cried silently in his arms, her smile splitting her lips. She felt like she was glowing with warmth, bathing in affection and admiration. He took his hand from hers and stroked her hair, letting her clutch him with both arms, not needing to say anything. While she felt no need to hide how she was feeling. For who else was able to see her the way he did?

It seemed like a long time — but probably only minutes — before she finally said:

“I’m...I’m going to be free for the afternoon now.”

He nodded, still stroking her hair.

“I’m a lucky man.”

He then suddenly shifted, so that he carried her bridal-style; she yelped, then laughed again, hoarse and full-bodied. He gazed down at her with utter adoration in his eyes as he started towards the kitchen.

“Oh, I was actually thinking that lunch could wait.”

He paused, tilting his head.

“Besides, that’s the wrong way to my bedroom.”

Dick’s eyes grew very wide.

Then he broke into another crooked grin.

“You’re the boss, Oracle. You are the boss.”

“And I know you’re never going to forget it,” she murmured.

His footsteps on the floor beat out a different rhythm; a precursor to a different, still loving, but very different kind of dance.


	5. it’s home where you hold me, so show me no mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s where the ‘explicit’ rating finally comes in. Have fun, you guys.
> 
> Title from Imogen Heap’s “Entanglement.”
> 
> Day 5: Cuddling/NSFW

“A _week_? We’re stranded out here for a _week_?”

On the other end of the line, Bruce let out a long, hard breath through his nose.

“You’re in a luxury ski cabin in British Columbia, only a fifteen-minute drive away from the nearest town, and meanwhile you have enough food and generator-powered electricity and heat to last you a month. I keep all my houses prepped, you know. You’re not _stranded_ , Dick.”

“You know what I mean! What do you mean you won’t be able to pick us up for a week? We can’t get flights out of Vancouver because we don’t have our passports, we sure can’t drive all the way across the continent...and you know we both have work to do!”

“That work is going to have to wait. Call in sick at the precinct and the library, they’ll forgive you.”

“What about the other kind of work? People need us, B! If you and the Batjet are really going to be in space until next Friday, then can’t you get another one of the Justice League?”

“All of the League are on vital missions of their own for the next two weeks at least; they can’t be sidetracked.”

“What about the Titans? The Birds of Prey? The Outsiders? The JSA? The Doom Patrol?”

“Do you think I would be telling you you were stuck there if anybody were able to come get you?” Bruce snapped. “Do you think I haven’t already checked with everybody I could think of — I can’t even send anyone from WE; it’ll raise too many questions about why the two of you were up there in the first place.”

Dick sighed miserably. The idea of leaving everyone alone...

“Look, we can manage without the two of you for a week,” his father said gruffly. “I doubt Bludhaven could sink too much further in your absence. And the community existed before Oracle came onto the scene; it’ll be able to do without her for a few days.”

He sighed again.

“Just wait until I come back from space,” Bruce finished. “You can last out there until then.”

The call ended, and Dick looked up from the phone at the woman sitting silently across the room.

“You got all that, huh?” he asked, his voice softening.

She let out a very long groan, running her hand through her hair.

“I could forge us new identities and two passports and solve our problem in a really dedicated couple hours... _if_ I had my computers and my printer, but all I brought with me was my frickin’ phone,” she grumbled. “We really are stuck up here for a week, huh. I guess we were lucky _enough_ Zinda was able to drop us off along her route.”

Dick glanced over her head at one of the massive windows.

Outside, night was falling. The mountains seemed to slope on endlessly, jagged white teeth that disappeared into the purple-gray clouds and past the horizon. The white was only broken up by the shadows of forests on their faces, and brave, buttery yellow lights that indicated the nearby little town, the only thing other than them that dared stand upon their portion of the Canadian Rockies. 

“ _And_ it looks like it’s going to snow,” he reported.

Barbara groaned once more, her shoulders slumping for a moment.

Then she sat up straight, sighing and pushing her glasses up her nose.

Dick felt better just looking at her, despite their circumstances.

He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder; she started and looked up.

“It could be worse,” he consoled her. “At least we have each other.”

She sighed a bit, but her irritated expression did soften.

“And you know what? There’s a fireplace in the master bedroom. How about I build us a fire and make some hot cocoa? I mean, if we’re going to wait out a snowstorm, we might as well be warm.”

She blinked, and then smiled a little, which made him feel better still.

“Okay, Man Wonder. While you’re doing that, I’m going to shower and get changed.”

She placed her hand over his and momentarily squeezed it, then took her pushrims with deliberation and rolled off.

Dick let himself smile too.

 

* * *

 

He set the two mugs of cocoa on the dark wooden floor and knelt before the enormous fireplace. The tinder caught with ease, and within a few minutes he had a nice blaze going, crackling gently and releasing the sweet smell of pinewood-smoke into the air.

He sat back and glanced at the room around him. Despite how far they sloped up, the wooden walls seemed almost cozy as they framed the bed in the center; white flannel sheets covered by a thick, dark red quilt. To the side, the only window framed another view of the mountains, and revealed the first tiny white flakes beginning to spiral from the sky.

Dick leaned in a little closer to the flames.

“That shower is insane. There are more controls in there than I have cameras, and I think the water’s piped directly in from the Yellowstone geysers or something. Bruce and his money, I swear.”

He looked up and caught his breath.

Above him, Barbara shook her hair out of a messy bun, tossing her head so that a cascade of soft red tumbled free. She wore nothing but her favorite bathrobe, which right then was gaping somewhat, exposing her collarbone, the beginning swell of her cleavage, and the freckles scattered across her body like stars. Glancing down, he lingered on her bare feet and calves, and that the loose robe only barely covered her knees and thighs.

Dick swallowed, wordlessly handing her one of the mugs.

“Oh! Thank you.”

She leaned back into her wheelchair. Her hair pooled around her shoulders as she sipped her hot cocoa, the sleeves of the robe slipped down to reveal her starred forearms; his gaze traveled along them, seeing, not for the first time, how they were so corded with hard muscle. She, for her part, was quiet, not noticing him but gazing into the hearth.

Dick tried to avert his gaze and focus on his own drink as much as he could; it was good, but he barely noticed the taste. He couldn’t help but steal glances at her — she was always beautiful, but bathed in the golden light, with those tantalizing glimpses of her long legs, her strong arms and shoulders, the tie of her bathrobe loosening and making it slip open a little more...

The room was undoubtedly getting warmer.

He finished his hot cocoa and his next look at her lingered some moments longer. She didn’t even notice, setting her mug down on the floor and turning towards the window. The snow had increased in frequency, the flakes had grown bigger and swifter, falling on the wind in what looked like white clouds.

“I bet you thought I was going to get changed into actual clothes.”

Dick started.

“Um —”

“I actually only brought two outfits with me.” She chuckled a bit, bowing her head. “We might be doing a lot of laundry over the next few days.”

“I dunno, I think this is a good look for you,” he said without thinking.

Her head snapped around. She stared at him over her glasses, considering.

Then she lifted her hand and crooked a finger at him.

Dick’s rising to his feet was almost involuntary, as he moved, she seemed to pull him towards her. He knelt before her wheelchair; his breath was quick, shuddering.

Then she reached out and took him by the chin. Her hand stroked upwards, cupping his cheek. The firelight danced off her glasses, the hot sparks seeming to enter those green eyes.

Her hand migrated to the back of his head and tugged him forwards. He rose slightly, just enough so that he could lean into her; their faces growing closer. She blinked slowly, languidly —

— before she pressed his head all the way forwards and suddenly she was kissing him.

Dick groaned, every bit of tension in his body releasing; he took her by the face with both hands and kissed her back. Barbara’s shoulders relaxed; she groaned softly into the kiss. She tasted like chocolate and whipped cream and cinnamon, her breath was hot in his mouth, and her fingers twisted into his hair, tugging slightly. He opened his mouth further against hers and his skin flushed even more with heat. His jeans were starting to feel a bit tight.

When they pulled away at last, they were still only a few inches apart. Her stare seemed even more intense, he could’ve sworn that her breathing was heavier.

“You...” he said softly.

“Yeah.”

She lifted her other hand and rested it upon his chest for a moment, then slowly stroked down along the fabric. He seemed impossibly aware of her touch, of how close her body was to his. The tightness was growing, uncomfortably so.

Her hand came to a halt over his lower belly, tracing along his abs, his navel. Her gaze flicked downwards along him.

“Eager already?” she questioned.

“Yeah, I...” He swallowed hard; his voice had grown hoarse. The way this woman could get him...a handful of words and one kiss, and the charm he was known for, his turn of phrase, it all vanished. There was a time for their usual playfulness and banter during their sex life, and this was not it. Instead, he was just putty in her hands. “I want you, Babs.”

“I see that,” she breathed.

He swallowed hard as she began to peel up his t-shirt, tugging it off him and away. Her eyes went back to his chest and abdomen; she licked her lips. He couldn’t help but smile at that.

“My turn.”

He untied her robe and slowly peeled it open. Her fair skin, marked with scars and freckles, muscles bunching underneath it. The perfect globes of her breasts, the roundness of her hips, the reddish curls tucked in between her thighs. Another rush of blood went to his groin.

His hands shook slightly; he gave her a moment to slip out of the robe and drop it to the floor, then reached out and cupped her tits, caressing them so that she tilted her head back and groaned. As she did he tilted in and kissed at her throat, nipping slightly at the delicate skin; she seized his shoulders, her nails dragging lightly over the taut muscles.

“Babs...” he moaned between kisses, “Do you want —”

“Yes.” Her grip tightened, her nails digging into the skin. He whined. “Yes, I do. I wanna fuck you.”

He was definitely hard now, aching, when he pulled back he stared up at her, hazily wondering if his awe and desire were in his expression. They must’ve been, because she smiled, just before tilting her head up.

Dick took the cue, swiftly lifting her from her chair and walking over towards the bed. Her skin against his was hot, but she kept her smile turned on him. As they moved, she glanced down along his body, and her eyes turned hungry again. She licked her lips, just slightly — he caught his breath.

When he laid her down on the bed, she put her glasses on the nightstand, then lifted the quilt and slipped under it. He quickly followed suit, going over to her, bracing his hands and knees on either side of her body. She cupped the back of his head again and pressed another lingering kiss to his lips.

It was him that pulled away this time, smiling back at her. Her hair was all splayed out across the thick pillows, matching the quilt draped over them, her bare skin and face almost glowing in the far reaches of the firelight. A thought came to him; taking a chance, he lifted a hand and traced his index finger along the curve of her throat, down along her collarbone. He was rewarded with a shudder and a pleased hum; emboldened, he traced it further down, pausing to trace the curves of her breasts again, then to caress each of the scars on her belly. She moaned with pleasure, closing her eyes, and he scooted back under the sheets so as to push open her thighs.

Under the darkness the quilt had cast him in, Dick carefully lowered himself again. His hand slipped down along the shadowed curve of her hip, brushing past stiff curls, then he traced one finger along the side of her pussy. Above him, she yelped; his smile grew, she was already slick, warm and wet and perfect.

He pushed his head forward, nestling between her thighs, then took a long lick.

She let out a long, guttural whine, grabbing his hair. He hummed with pleasure, shutting his eyes, his hands gently gripping her legs as he began to run his tongue over her swollen folds. He flattened it against her clit, then sucked.

Barbara swore violently, kept whining and moaning as he suckled the little nub, teasing around it with his tongue, alternating that with his long, steady laps at her cunt. Over and between her hot, slick folds, his tongue pushing her open.

She cried out and yanked ruthlessly at his hair; he closed his eyes in bliss. She was all but dripping down his lips, seeping against his face, while he ate her open-mouthed, pressing his tongue to her swollen clit, then dipping it, curling it inside her.

Dick’s jeans were almost unbearably tight now; still he kept devouring her, laving at her sweet wet cunt, eating her like he could eat nothing else but her the rest of his life.

“Fuck, that’s right,” she moaned. “You’re mine...my sweet, beautiful boy.”

His head was fuzzy with arousal and happiness; he just kept lovingly, greedily lapping her as her upper body shuddered. Once more, once more, then she was cursing again and she was coming, and he drank her down, lapping up every drop of her cum.

Then he finally pulled away and surfaced from under the quilt, tossing his head back and breathing deep. Barbara was still lying back; she was panting too. Her cheeks and tits were flushed, her nipples like nubs of coral, but she still looked at him with fire in her eyes.

“Pants off.”

He was happy to obey her, shucking them and his underwear down his legs, then throwing them somewhere off to the side. She glanced down at him, fully hard for her, leaking pre, and she lifted her head approvingly.

His smile came back, then he moved further up until they were eye-to-eye again, then bent his arms so that he almost lay on top of her. He gently took her jaw in hand and kissed her again, letting her taste how sweet she was.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I love you so much.”

The fire didn’t die, but her expression did soften.

“I love you so much too,” she breathed. She took a moment to grab the edge of the quilt and pull it up over them, just as he finally slid inside her. Underneath the ruddy warmth of the quilt, they both groaned and sighed in unison, her mouth parting and her eyelashes fluttering.

She was still so slick and so hot, and so perfect, like she always was. Lying against her skin, she radiated heat, and he felt her arms wrap around his back. He slipped his in between her and the bed, holding her close.

Barbara nuzzled the crook of his shoulder.

“Move,” she murmured.

They rocked back and forth together as he thrust, working up a rhythm. They held on, andlying face to face, pressed kisses to each others’ mouths between breaths. His thrusts grew harder, he sheathed himself in her fully with each motion, deep in her belly, again and again as they rolled around under the sheets.

They were both panting, gasping with pleasure, and it seemed that every inch of his skin was against hers. Hot pressure began to build inside him, and the rise and fall of her chest against his was definitely growing erratic.

He pulled her even closer, as close as he could.

“Babs, I’m —”

“Yeah, me too.” Her hand caressed over his back; she tossed her head and looked him in the eye. “Go ahead.”

His thrusts took on new vigor, so that it was only a few more before she was coming again, clenching around him, crying out. That tipped him over the edge too, almost simultaneously the pressure in him finally released; he gasped as his own orgasm swept through him, as he spilled himself deep inside her.

For a few minutes, they just lay against each other like that, catching their breath.

Then Dick reached above them and pulled the quilt back, letting their heads and shoulders slip back into the open air.

In the great hearth, the fire was still blazing merrily. The snow kept coming down in thick drifts, the white swirls playing against their window, a reverse silhouette against the dark.

Still lying next to each other, facing each other, both of them broke into huge grins.

“You know,” he remarked, “I don’t think you’re going to need any more changes of clothes after all.”

Barbara laughed, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah.” Still beaming, she reached out and cupped his cheek again. “Sort of made that shower a moot point, huh?”

“Maybe. But I’d say it was worth it.”

She hummed, her thumb caressing over his face. Her expression was soft, loving, and his chest felt ready to burst with affection.

“Sounds about right...like someone told me once: if we’re going to wait out a snowstorm, we might as well be warm.”

“He must be a very wise man.”

She half-scoffed, half-laughed again. Then she rolled over and lay on her back — and beckoned him over.

Dick clambered over and lay down on top of her. The covers up to the back of his neck, his chest and abdomen against hers, his cheek resting against her collarbone. She laid one arm over his back, holding him, and her other hand rested over his head, lazily stroking his hair.

“Well, he’s something,” Barbara teased lightly. Her voice then became soft, affectionate. “Though, in all seriousness...I think being stuck up here for a week isn’t going to be all bad after all.”

Dick closed his eyes, perfectly content, both of them teetering on the edge of a peaceful sleep.

Outside, the snow continued to fall.

 

* * *

 

“So how long do you think it’s going to take them to figure out that the local cops and Mounties completely could’ve handled that ‘emergency’ by themselves?”

Dinah’s question was met by a chorus of rather loud, unprofessional laughter and smiles behind hands. Everyone was well-dressed and polished, in suit jackets and button-ups and slinky dresses, and everyone had a glass in hand. At first glance, shielded by the bare faces and clothes that made them their respective civilian identities, almost anyone could’ve mistaken them for an _ordinary_ group of friends out for a drink in a hotel bar.

“They’re smart,” J’onn said matter-of-factly. “It should be fairly quickly.”

Arthur smirked.

“It’ll probably be around the time they figure out that none of us have any pressing duties for at least two weeks, or have been in space for a month.”

Barry and Shayera laughed again, nearly sloshing their drinks.

“Really, Bruce,” Diana remarked, smiling around her glass. “Do you really think you’re going to be able to get away with lying to your son and the woman who’s like your daughter?”

Bruce’s usual stoic expression melted, just a bit.

“Whether I do is irrelevant. They’ve been working hard for all of us, and they needed a break. A week’s vacation will do them nothing but good.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Clark said kindly, ignoring his friend’s embarrassed grunt at that. “And we all hope that they do have a good time.”

“Oh, I _bet_ they will,” Hal snickered under his breath. “You know? I bet they already did.”

“Most likely.”

Dinah smiled broadly at that, then lifted her own glass in a toast.

“Well, I say thanks for lying, Bruce. To Dick and Barbara.”

“To Dick and Barbara!” everyone chorused, laughing.

“Hear hear,” Bruce murmured to himself.

The Justice League clinked their glasses.


	6. your heart is the only place that I call home (can I be returned? you can)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fantasy au is not mine, I borrowed it from @laquilasse (here and on Tumblr). So you all have her to thank for this, which you should do. 
> 
> Title from Florence + The Machine’s “Heartlines.”
> 
> Day 6: Alternate Universe

When Dick awoke that morning, the snow-covered trees seemed to murmur between themselves, as if they could sense all he had planned for the day.

The dazzling winter sun almost blinded him, making him groan and lift his hand above his head. All he could see was the sky through the window, vivid pale blue, and the white-painted wooden walls and matching sheets around him. Above the walls, the entire ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky, so that even outside her study, away from her scrying bowl and constellation maps, she could look at the stars every night.

He sat up, and his long black hair glided down over his bare chest, all the way to his waist. One hand brushed the thick, soft locks back over his shoulders, while the other fumbled over the shape of his pointed ears, checking to make sure none of his half-dozen-odd earrings had been lost during the night.

He glanced out the window, at the ancient trees that just brushed against the top floor of the observatory. His blood seemed to prickle as he strained for their whispers.

_Stand on. Stand on, child of the earth, of the wind. Believe in your heart._

Oaks were slightly pretentious at the best of times.

Beside him, there was a groan as the woman whose bed he was in began to stir. She sat up too, her back to him, muscles flexing as she stretched her arms upwards. Her long hair was, unusually for her, unbound, free from its nets and braids; it tumbled down her strong back, obscuring the endless freckles that dotted her fair skin.

Dick turned and shifted so that he sat behind her, then wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her brown-speckled shoulder.

“Hello, love,” he murmured.

She turned her head, and offered him a rare kind of soft smile: wholehearted, and completely vulnerable.

“It’s a little strange to see you still here. Welcome, but strange. No obligations back at the palace yet?”

“They can wait.” His next kiss was to her cheek. “And barring how late it must be aside, how is it strange? It’s not like it’s not a regular occurrence...”

“Exactly.” She tilted her head to the side. “A half-elf-half-faerie prince and a seer who can’t walk keep waking up in bed together over the course of three years. It’s like the start of a bad joke.”

“I think I’ve heard that one,” he chuckled. Her hair was soft, and her bare skin against his in the morning light was still like a dream.

“You sure it wasn’t Helena’s about the tiefling, the troll, and the orc warrior’s mother?”

“Mm, that might’ve been it.”

They both laughed, and she turned around to face him, bracing her arms on his shoulders. Her expression changed, and his heart began to beat faster.

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“I had another one of those dreams, last night,” she admitted at last.

Those dreams...

Those dreams, that sometimes the entire kingdom relied on.

“What...” He swallowed hard. “What did you see this time?”

“You.” She tilted her head to the side. “You were on your knees on a stone floor, covered in dirt, your hair in snarls, and your clothes all ruined. And you were looking up...and you looked utterly terrified.”

His breath caught, then shuddered. The last thing he needed today was for her to be worried about him.

“It might not happen for a while,” he consoled her.

“Or it might,” she countered. “You know as well as I do that it could. Besides, you were wearing the same outfit you wore when you came here yesterday.”

“Barbara.” He drew her close, wrapping his arms around her. One hand reached up and stroked over her hair. “I know how hard it must be, to see the future, and see what’s happening around you, and only have limited control over either. But please don’t worry about me. I’m the crown prince, it’s my _job_ to be in danger. Besides, things have always worked out.”

“I hate these portents sometimes,” she mumbled. “Why can’t I ever find out that Charlotte’s going to really want a particular dress soon so I should give her extra pay, or what Bruce is getting Damian for his next birthday so you don’t get him the same thing?”

“Why don’t you use your powers to look around and see those things as they’re happening?”

“Oh I do, sometimes, but people don’t seem to like it when I spy on them too much, for some reason.”

He chuckled, leaning back and kissing her forehead.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. “I’ll be alright. I promise you.”

She sighed a bit.

“Eternally optimistic.”

“It’s part of my charm.”

She rolled her eyes slightly, but smiled, then kissed him again. He found himself tilting back into the pillows, her leaning over him, still pressing kisses to his mouth.

“ _Mmm_...and here I was going to ask you to... _mmm_...ring for Charlotte to bring us a pot of coffee.”

“It can wait,” she murmured. “You know...I never told you the punchline to that joke...about an odd couple waking up in bed together?”

“That’s true, you didn’t. What _is_ the punchline?”

Her eyes sparkled.

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, he finally took his leave. He traveled down the endless stone staircase to the bottom of the tower before re-encountering Charlotte, a skinny gingery-haired human girl of sixteen, who giggled brightly to herself as she helped him with his cloak and brushed dirt off the hem.

“Anything else, Your Highness?” she asked, straightening up again.

“No, I’m alright.” He flipped his hair out so that it fell loose down his back.

“Well, is there, um, anything you’d like me to tell Her Ladyship?”

“Hmm, well, I already told her I adore her, so...”

The girl broke down into happy giggles again.

“I could tell her again,” she offered. “I like seeing her blush, it’s so rare when you’re not around.”

He couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks, Charlotte. I’ll see you later.”

“I know, Your Highness.” She curtsied too quickly, then waved him goodbye at the door.

Frankly, being the daughter of a general in the royal army and that used her rare gift of prophecy for the kingdom’s and royal family’s benefit, thus answering to no one but the king himself, Barbara could’ve gotten away with far more than the astral observatory and a single handmaid. But she hadn’t even had Charlotte until fairly recently, finding the girl orphaned with her house burned down after a dragon attack. So she’d given her room and board on top of the kind of pay most people wouldn’t even think of giving their servants.

He felt overwhelmed again by love, and nervous in the face of what he was about to do.

Dick went to her stables, saddling up his horse and riding off down the cobbled streets, still lost in thought as he did. The wooden townhouses, crammed in too tightly together, blurred into one as his stallion cantered past. The people milling around, huddled up against the cold, turned up to gawk at him in his fine blue clothes — even if it was yesterday’s outfit.

The great black face of the palace loomed up to greet him within minutes, startling him out of his thoughts. Two guards ran up to greet him as soon as he came within fifty feet of the gate, taking the horse by the bridle, both talking at once as he slid off.

“Your Highness! Where have you been?”

“With a friend.” He petted his horse’s muzzle, letting the sleek black stallion nicker and nuzzle his hand. “Good boy, Kal. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

Kal’s liquid black eyes reflected _love_ , and also _would like my blanket now, it’s cold_. Meanwhile, the guards exchanged looks.

“You were with a friend...for an entire day?”

“I really, really love my friends.”

Kal snorted and dipped his head. Dick pointed a finger at the horse while the guards exchanged puzzled looks.

“Don’t give me that.” He turned back to the guards. “Will you have the stablemaster rub him down and put his blanket on him? It’s a miserable day to be outside.” He paused. “Speaking of which, how are the new fur-lined jackets?”

“So much better than the regular ones.”

“Good to hear.” Dick beamed, and one of the guards blushed. Her companion developed an interest in the top of his boots. “Have a good day, the both of you!”

“I’d wish you the same, my prince,” the female guard managed to say, “but you seem to be having one already.”

 

* * *

 

He roamed through the top floor of the palace, intending to take what he’d hidden in his room and slip back out.

Instead, when he opened his door, he found a quintet of trouble.

Most people, upon seeing annoyed fae and crabby half-orcs and a disappointed human boy with a spear, even if they were _not_ royalty, would’ve run for their lives.

Dick just sighed.

Then an enraged creature the size of a large cat with teeth and claws like daggers flew at his head and he spit red sparks as he blew warning clouds of smoke. Dick sighed again.

“Damian, we talked about flying at people like that.”

“Richard!” the young dragon perched on his head squawked. “Why didn’t you tell us you were planning on asking her so soon?”

“‘Soon’ is relative, it’s been over three years, after all,” Duke pointed out. As always, his irises were almost golden and he had a slight glow to his skin, though otherwise he looked totally human. Being half light fae treated him well. “But seriously Dick. You hid this?”

Cass did not look human. Though she was in her woman form, like all Unseelie faeries she constantly had a distinct Otherworld sense about her. Dark-eyed and dark-haired, with a slight black aura and a surreality in the swiftness and power of her motion. But she was the only one of them who was smiling and giggling to herself.

“Oh come on, all of you.” He tilted his head to the side, Damian sliding slightly around on his hair. “I haven’t told _anyone_. I haven’t even told Donna or Wally. It’s a huge decision. Most of my people take centuries to decide something like this.”

“That’s what I said,” Tim muttered.

“Kiss-arse,” Jason snorted at him. Tim glared over the top of the spear at Jason, who was considerably taller and broader, complete with sword-inflicted scars, impressive fangs, and his favorite crossbows at his hip. It was rather like watching a bobcat hiss at a tiger. “So, Dick, my question is: does she have any idea what you’re planning? That you’re ready for this kind of thing? That you’re going to ask something so huge of her? Have you dropped any hints?”

“What are you, my relationship counselor?” Dick exhaled hard, pressing his hand to his forehead. “She knows I love her.”

“Everyone does.”

“And we’ve been together for a long time...well, for humans. But even for me, I’ve known her for a good majority of my life. And she knows I’ve always taken love affairs seriously, even before...and now, with her, I’m certain she’s the one I want to be with. And the duties she’ll have as crown princess? I trust her with those and more.”

Tim and Duke softened considerably; Cass’s smile grew. Even Jason relaxed.

“What if she doesn’t feel the same?” Damian challenged. “Richard, you could be setting yourself up to get your heart broken. I won’t allow that.”

Dick plucked the dragonling off his head and cradled him in his arms, noticing with chagrin that the smoke and claws had ruined his tunic. Damian, for his part, fidgeted and kept huffing smoke, his bronze scales glinting in the sunlight, green eyes narrowed in consternation.

“Some things, some people, are worth taking that kind of chance for, Dami.”

Damian huffed again, then shifted. Dick suddenly found himself holding a scowling black-haired eleven-year-old boy, albeit one with the same green eyes, horns, and tiny fangs from his other form, his skin as bronze as his scales had been.

“You know that better than anyone,” Dick finished significantly, and Damian flushed.

“Well, Richard, it’s _your_ neck,” he muttered, ducking his head so the others wouldn’t see him blushing.

Jason snorted lightly, then crossed his arms, tossing his head slightly. The other three all broke into grins, leaning into each other excitedly.

“Well, glad that’s settled. You can give the ring back to him now, Lizard-baby.”

“I thought you had it,” said Tim.

“No, he gave it to Damian,” said Duke.

“Why the hell would he do that?”

“‘Cause the whelp’s half-dragon. He’s a hoarder,” Jason said reasonably. “I figured he’d keep it safe.”

Damian’s scowl began to abate, turning into caginess. Cass sighed, then spoke up.

“Damian’s room...was cleaned last night. Had to...move it. Where it wouldn’t be found.”

“What? Where?”

“Gave it to...someone trustworthy,” Cass assured him.

“‘Trustworthy’ is perhaps too generous,” Damian muttered. His sister came up and lightly cuffed him for that.

“Well, who?” Tim exclaimed. “Who did you give it to?”

“...Stephanie.”

Dick sighed with relief, as did everyone else.

“Thank the gods,” Tim exhaled. “I thought you were going to say, like, our stepmother.”

“The queen’s trustworthy! Sometimes.”

“Yes, but knowing her, she’d keep it on her own finger for at least the rest of the day.”

“Are werecats... _supposed_ to be that...obsessed with pretty things?”

“I think that’s the human part of her.”

“Well, if it’s just Stephanie,” Dick reasoned, “I’ll just ask for it back, then.”

He pulled out one of his earrings and lifted it to his lips.

“Stephanie Brown.”

The speaking stone glowed white, and momentarily he heard her voice emanating from it, making it vibrate slightly in his hand.

“Dick! Hello! Look, is this important? I’ve got something over the fire at the moment, and if I don’t time how long it simmers, it won’t be able to improve one’s ability to talk to others for long periods of time.”

“Since when do you of all people need a potion like that?”

“It’s not for me, it’s for Tim.”

Jason and Damian hooted with laughter while Tim protested vehemently.

“Actually, this is important. Cass and Damian gave you a ring within the last day, do you still have it?”

“Oh, that? Yes, I do. I put it out by my sill next to my crystals during last night’s waxing moon.”

“Gods bless you, Stephanie.”

“They’d better.”

The stone dimmed again, and Dick put it back in his ear. He grinned nervously at his siblings, and one by one, the oldest four beamed back at him encouragingly. After a second, even Damian mustered up a hesitant, supportive smile.

Dick was willing to take it.

 

* * *

 

Stephanie’s house was within walking distance of the castle; nondescript-looking at first until one noticed that her front door was painted a violent shade of violet with a bouquet of dried herbs tied to the knocker, the garden of odd plants that the snow couldn’t quite hide, and a thick line of of salt stretching across the front porch.

Dick smiled to himself and knocked.

The young woman in her all-purple robes, her blond hair a frizzy mess, flung open the front door in a heartbeat.

“Hello. We have a problem.”

“Good to see you too, Stephanie.”

“Shut up, Dick,” she said impatiently, which, if they’d had anyone else with them, would’ve drawn a chorus of horrified gasps. But she was beloved amongst his family, and she’d earned the right to call the crown prince by his first name and otherwise be rude. “I can’t find it. It’s not on my sill.”

He froze in horror.

“Can you — can you look for it?”

“Yeah, you can help me.” She brushed her hair over one shoulder. “I can guess how important this is to you.”

“Oh gods help me, you have no idea,” he whispered, darting after her into the house.

It was only fairly messy, which he figured was pretty good for a witch. The herb bundles were mostly wrapped, and the potion on the slow fire was simmering away gently, filling the house with the sweet smells of wildflowers and basil. A orange-striped, red-eyed cat lay next to the fire, preoccupied with something near his paws.

“I didn’t know you had a familiar.”

“Teekl? He’s not mine, he’s a friend’s familiar; I’m just keeping him for a couple days.” She went to her window, where the other crystals might have been laid out neatly, but were now in disarray. “Well, I say ‘friend,’ but being an evil immortal sorcerer and all, Klarion and I kind of operate in different spheres of magic — who in the armpits of Tartarus was messing with my shit!?”

Teekl meowed softly: _Witch’s tools are fun to play with. She wasn’t paying attention to me. Mortals should pay attention to me at all times._

Which could be down to him being the familiar of an evil immortal sorcerer. Or it could just be down to him being a cat.

Dick, for his part, had gotten on the floor and was now patting down the carpet, desperately searching around for anything that gleamed. At the same time, Teekl lifted himself partially up, batting gently at whatever he was playing with...

Wait a minute.

Dick made eye contact with the cat. The cat blinked slowly, then picked it up in his mouth.

“Here kitty...here kitty, kitty...c’mere...”

Teekl blinked one more time. Then bolted right for the open door.

“Get him!”

Witch and elf charged screaming after the cat, who immediately ducked into the frosty garden and under a blackberry bush. Without thinking, Dick plunged in after him.

“Ow! Gods almighty, dragon-fucking son of a whore —”

“And I thought _I_ was impulsive,” Stephanie remarked as he withdrew from the thorny, snowy branches, holding Teekl in one hand and his prize, thankfully unharmed, in the other. His shirt was badly ripped, and his hair had come loose and snagged a blackberry thorn; she pulled it out but simultaneously managed to pull his hair into a snarl. Dick sighed and handed her back the cat.

“I love all forms of nature, and all animals are kin to me, but this is why I prefer dogs.”

“And dragons, apparently.” She glanced down at his prize. “And seers. If that’s for what I think it’s for...”

He nodded.

“Wow. It really _is_ important.” She petted Teekl’s head. “Good luck, Dick.”

“Thanks, Stephanie. Good luck with your witchcraft.”

“I don’t need luck, that’s why I have magic.”

He smiled despite himself, then pulled his cloak tighter around himself and went back to the gate. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted her talking to the cat:

“You, young man, are going to be in big trouble when Klarion gets back.”

 _Meow_.

 

* * *

 

He tucked the ring carefully into his pocket, nervously patting it every few seconds to make sure it was still there. He had to go back to the castle, there was no way he could make a huge request of the woman he loved in yesterday’s ripped, stained clothes.

“Your Highness! Is that you?”

Dick turned, surprised to be face-to-face with the children of Bruce’s grand vizier. Luke, Tam, and Tiffany were all in fine robes — sky blue, lilac, and dawn pink respectively — and long warm cloaks, making their prince look very shabby.

“Yes, it’s me. Lord Fox, Ladies Fox, what can I do for you?”

“Well, we’re not in court or in a council meeting, so you can just call us by our names,” Tam said cheerily. “Also, can you tell us why you’re all scratched up and still in a good mood?”

“I’m having a good day, Tam, but thanks for asking.”

Tiffany tugged at the middle of his cape, peering up at him with very large eyes.

“Luke couldn’t find your father His Majesty, and Papa’s wondering about the finances for the midwinter ball,” the young girl piped.

“Oh, no worries, Tiffany. Tell your papa the coffers are still full.” He picked her up and set her on his hip, even though she was almost ten. “Wow, you’re getting big. Good for you!”

“People tell me that a lot,” she said happily. “Can I ride on your shoulders?”

“Tiffany, you’re too old for that —” Luke started to say, but Dick was already hoisting her up further, pulling his hair out of the way and letting her climb onto his shoulders.

Tam poked Luke in the ribs.

“Why aren’t _you_ fun like that? Do you need more younger siblings?”

“Please don’t tell me you want shoulder-rides, Tam.”

Tiffany fisted her hands in his hair like it was a horse’s mane as he darted around the frozen, cobbled street, drawing stares from a good few passersby.

“Go to the right!” she exclaimed.

“C’mon Tiff, I’m not _actually_ a horse —” he laughed.

He was cut off by a rough crowd of men emerging from the nearest pub, shoving into the two of them. Dick stumbled backwards against someone’s fence; the girl on his shoulders lost her grip, beginning to slip off him.

“Tiffany!”

Dick twisted, grabbing her and holding her against his chest as he toppled backwards over the fence. His back hit the bottom of someone’s garden, and his breath all fell out of him in a _whoosh_.

Tam and Luke ran over, peering over the fence.

Tiffany lay against his chest, completely unscathed, while Dick gasped for air, now covered in chunks of frozen soil.

“Can we do that again?” she asked.

“Maybe later,” he wheezed.

He looked up to see a great white wolf wearing an engraved collar peering down at him with unimpressed blue eyes.

“Please tell your owner I meant no harm. The palace’ll reimburse them if I ruined anything.”

The wolf huffed and tossed his head, which even someone who wasn’t part elf could understand: _You idiot._

Communion with nature did not keep one from occasionally being insulted by it.

“Thanks for keeping her safe,” Luke sighed.

“You ever think about having children?” Tam teased lightly.

“Don’t be silly,” Tiffany said to her sister as she climbed over the fence. “He hasn’t got a wife, you know.”

“I’m working on it,” Dick told her, sitting up. Then he froze. “Oh gods. Right. I still have to go, sorry.”

He scrambled upwards, wincing a bit in pain, before hugging the girls goodbye and nodding to Luke — then running back up the road towards the castle.

 

* * *

 

The servants did double takes when they saw him, running up the stairs and hallways. He knew that Barbara would be out at the market at her usual time soon, if he hurried, he would still have time to clean up, head back to her house, and set up his surprise for her. But only if he hurried.

But then he heard the voices in the hallway, just before his chambers.

“— and what happened after that?”

“I punched him. In the groin,” said Dick’s sister solemnly.

The first speaker laughed, and his heart stopped.

“Cass, you can’t punch everyone you don’t like,” Barbara said once she finished laughing. “No matter how much they deserve it.”

“You would’ve...done the same thing.”

Dick poked his head around the corner.

The two women were right in the middle of the hallway. Cass was in her usual black robes, and her usual faint black aura was around her as she lifted her head proudly. Barbara in her special iron-and-wood wheeled chair carefully enchanted to move at her will, her bright hair tied in a braided crown with winter ivy, looking resplendent in a long green dress.

Dick very carefully hugged the wall as he crept down the hallway, not making a sound.

“When I was _eighteen_ , I would’ve.” Barbara shook her head fondly. “It’s been a few years since my days of knighthood.”

“Still scary. Also. I have no regrets.”

“Honestly, Cassandra. You and your family.”

“Your family too. Soon.”

“What are you talking about —”

Right then, Dick was so busy looking at them to make sure they didn’t glance around and see him that he caught his foot on a loose stone —

— tripping, and sprawling right in between the two women.

The ring fell from inside his pocket and went clattering across the hallway floor.

Cass’s eyes grew wide, and she backed up to the beginning of the corridor.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, right then was when their brothers, _and_ General Gordon, _and_ the king and queen, their father and stepmother, in their golden crowns and sweeping black clothes, rounded the corridor — coming to a halt right in front of Cass. The group’s chatter ground to an instant halt.

Dick managed to pull himself up onto his knees.

“Dick.” Barbara’s voice was quiet. “That ring...”

Behind them, their fathers inhaled sharply.

He looked up. Her expression was unreadable, but he was sure that all his fear and vulnerability was written plainly across his face.

Instead of his prepared speech, all his emotion began spilling out.

“I wanted to...to ask you with...in human custom. Because I also wanted to ask you to soul-bond with me, the way elves do, and to do that...we’d be emotionally connected for the rest of our lives. Just like marriage would have us connected in the eyes of the kingdom and the gods. I love you, Barbara.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t just want to be connected to you in just one way.

But asking you to be with me, I’m asking so much of you. I’m asking you to be this country’s crown princess, and eventually its queen. You’ll be expected to shoulder this country, to endure the lifestyle of court, to be my partner in everything, to...to carry and bear our children. I’m asking you to face your worst fears, of love and commitment and letting go for good. To be mated to me, all my good and bad, of two species, both of whom take forever literally. Which is why I was going to ask you properly, instead of like...this.” He laughed painfully, then picked up the ring, the elven stone set in it glowing like a little moon. “I’m so sorry. It’s just me right now. I love you, and I want to be with you. Right now, I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been before. But I love you. You’re worth everything.”

She was silent for a few more moments.

Then she stretched out a hand, touching his cheek.

“I think this might be the _best_ way my vision could’ve come true.”

Dick’s breath caught. He couldn’t believe it.

“So is that a —”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

He was crying, he knew it, as he leaned upwards and kissed her in full view of their families. The palace was chilly with midwinter, but the sun was shining through the windows, and it was like someone had lit a blazing hearth fire in his chest.

She took the ring from his hands and slipped it on.

“I can figure out being the crown princess,” she promised. “And more importantly, I can be brave. I can do this, because it’s _you_ , Dick. _You’re_ worth everything. And we can do this, I swear.” Then glanced over his shoulder. “Well. We can once we lose the audience.”

At being acknowledged, the families broke into raucous applause.

“I’ll start organizing the wedding,” Bruce said solemnly while Selina looked down proudly and Jim wiped at his eyes. Cass cried silently even as she smiled, Jason whistled long and loud through his fingers, Tim cheered as he clapped, Duke punched the air and whooped.

Wings fluttered, and Damian in his dragon form curled around Barbara’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” he told her solemnly. “For not breaking his heart.”

She stroked over his horned head, looking back at Dick.

“Damian, I promise, his heart is never going to get broken again.”

The rest of the family closed in around them, talking happily and asking questions, and he loved them so much, but all he could see was Barbara.

She may have been the seer. But in that moment, easy as breathing, _he_ could see it all stretching ahead of them. He could see their future.


	7. we can do this thing together, close your eyes and take my hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we’ve come to the end again, and again, I had a wonderful time writing for these two. Thank you all for reading, for kudos-ing, for commenting. It’s been a privilege.
> 
> (Odie, short for Odysseus, belongs to @avataraandy on tumblr. Ari, short for Ariadne, is an Australian shepherd, and she’s all mine. Also, can you guess who the two younger kids got their names from?)
> 
> Title from DeJ Loaf’s “No Fear.”
> 
> Day 7: Future

The early summer night lay almost gently over Gotham’s crooked skyline, millions of machines and humans breathing as one, a hum of life in the air as the Bat-Signal glowed through the night. For once, the city was at relative peace.

Meanwhile, Barbara was at war.

“I got you!”

The bullet went wide and bounced harmlessly off her backrest; she smirked and rounded on her assaulter.

“That’s what you think.” She aimed her own gun, point-blank.

He screamed and darted away, ducking for cover. He poked the tip of his gun over the top of his shelter, clearly just waiting for her to roll closer.

She hefted her gun and began to move the long way around. The lone bystander looked up, but said nothing.

Her attacker was still facing the front of his shelter as she rolled around, not seeing her. Barbara took aim again and shot him in the side.

He yelped loudly and rolled around, squeezing the trigger as he did —

— his next bullet nailing her right in the chest.

Barbara couldn’t help but laugh, lowering the plastic gun, plucking the foam Nerf bullet off her shirt.

“Well, you win this time, kiddo.”

“And next time, I will without you getting me,” the little boy said firmly, before breaking into a grin. He dropped his own gun and clambered up into her lap; she ruffled his thick black hair, kissing his forehead. He was honey-skinned and small for his age, like his father, with gray-blue eyes so unlike hers, but she could claim that smattering of brown freckles across his nose.

The other little boy poked his head over the top of the couch, having temporarily abandoned his building blocks on the carpet. He was even tinier; redheaded, pale, and brown-eyed like _her_ father, and was dotted with the same freckles as his older brother.

“No you won’t.”

“Yes I will.”

“No you won’t. Mom’s bigger and stronger.”

“I’m faster.”

“Still won’t.”

“Troy, be nice,” Barbara admonished her younger son. “John, your dad’ll be home soon, take your brother and both of you wash up for dinner.”

Her older son squeezed her around the middle once more before he vaulted off her chair, turning a somersault as he hit the ground. Troy slid off the couch, very carefully stepping around the rocket ship he’d built, before both of them ran for the bathroom.

Barbara stretched her arms up over her head, wincing slightly at her sore wrists and shoulders. They might’ve hurt less if she hadn’t just spent half an hour playing with John, but not playing with him didn’t even seem like an option.

She went into the kitchen to check on the food, then across her home to check on something else.

They’d expanded the living space of Clock Tower quite a lot in the last four years. She’d had to convert her entire simulation room into two more bedrooms, and an expansion of the living room. Her workspace remained untouched, she’d even upgraded it considerably, but she’d moved the training area into the next floor down. Just to make room for the last member of the household.

Her cat and her husband’s dog had been curled up together on a patch of sunshine on the floor. Their long black fur was illuminated with silver light, but they lifted their heads. One wagged her tail and one meowed a greeting as she headed into the bedroom.

“Hi, Odie. Hi, Ari. Were you babysitting?”

Odie blinked slowly at her as she leaned over the crib. Ari got to her feet and nuzzled Barbara’s legs, still wagging. At the same time, like the animals, the baby within had woken from her nap, standing up and gripping the bars of her crib, wiggling in place as she saw her mother.

Her daughter was wild-haired, her black curls like storm clouds, skin the color of a tigers-eye, and chubby, bigger than her older brothers had been. Her freckles were dark brown, and her eyes, like her mother’s, were bright green.

“Laurel? Are you hungry?”

“Babababababa.”

“Alright, alright, you sound like your Uncle Wally,” she smiled, lifting the hem of her shirt.

Laurel had just finished when she heard the key in the door; heard her boys yelling excitedly. She held her daughter to her shoulder, patting her back, listening to their voices.

“Dad’s home!”

“Dad!”

“Hey! C’mere!”

“Dad, how many bad guys have you gotten yet today?”

“Half a dozen. It’s been a banner day,” Dick laughed. “Oh, Auntie Amy says hi. She also wants you to know that she got more bad guys, but she’s a liar.”

“Sure she is,” Barbara called.

“See? She even got your mom in on it.”

She rolled back out into the living room one-handed, Odie and Ari trotting behind her. Sure enough, her husband stood in the doorway, and seeing him she felt her body relax, her chest grow warm — especially since Troy was latched onto his leg and John was dangling from his shoulder.

“You know something? I kinda miss the uniform.”

“Price of being promoted.” He beamed at her. “But hey. Which sounds better when you’re bragging to your friends: that your husband’s a beat cop, or that he’s a detective?”

“You’ve been a detective since you were nine; my friends know that. And I think _they_ miss the uniform too.”

“Knowing your friends, that sounds about right.”

Their sons still hanging off him, he bent to kiss her.

“How you doing, Babs?”

“Well, today we saved several members of India’s parliament from assassins. Also, I found out that your eldest son’s a crack shot with a Nerf rifle.”

“I know all the state capitals now,” Troy piped up. “And how to somersault backwards.”

“I know the star systems that Auntie Kori and Uncle Clark are from,” John agreed. “And how Mom’s headset works.”

“Well, you two clearly got your brains from her,” Dick told them. “I’m betting your sister did too. You be grateful for who you got for a mom, you really couldn’t do better.”

“We know, Dad. You tell us a lot.”

Laurel cooed, and Barbara stroked the baby’s hair, not even trying not to blush.

“Anyway. How long until your ‘night shift’ starts?”

“Looks like it’s going to be an average sort of night, so...four hours.” He stretched the unoccupied arm up over his head. “And I should be back by two-thirty in the morning.”

“Time between then and now for dinner and a movie, at least.”

“Yeah, albeit kind of a different dinner and movie than what we had when we were dating.”

“I wanna watch _Frozen_ ,” John said immediately.

“I wanna watch _Moana_ ,” Troy countered.

“Bleh geh beh bleh,” Laurel chimed in.

“You heard your sister,” Dick said seriously. “ _Coco_ it is.”

Barbara wondered, yet again, how her life — her life — could’ve ended up like this. Not the heroics. The softness in between. Just a few years ago it was something she could never have, an impossible dream. Love, lasting love, had to be nothing but an impossible dream.

“ _Coco_ sounds good to me,” she said. “And Dick, I washed your suit for you. But in the meantime, let’s have some dinner.”

 

* * *

 

Halfway through the movie, leaving her family on the couch and Odie and Ari napping on the floor, Barbara got up to get a drink. But she didn’t return from the kitchen immediately, sitting by the island and sipping her juice, just listening. 

“So you two are looking forward to summer vacation, huh?”

“Yeah! I’m gonna beat Uncle Tim in Trivial Pursuit sometime this summer. And Aunt Cass promised she’d take me to the park every week. And I wanna finish my thousand-piece puzzle.”

“I wanna go t’ Science Museum,” Troy agreed. “And Dad? C’n’I go to the station t’see Grandpa Jim more? Please?”

“Sure. As long as you don’t try to go on the roof to call your other grandpa with the Bat-Signal again.”

“Why won’t you lemme?”

“‘Cause your grandpas have a lot to do, but they won’t tell you to stop ‘cause they love you too much.”

Troy, being all of three, had made it all the way to the precinct’s fire escape during that particular incident before Crispus had caught him. At least, she thought with a wry smile, he didn’t have his older brother’s inclination to climb on the furniture and hang off people’s curtains.

“Thought _you_ loved us.”

“I do,” Dick said seriously. “I love you two and your sister more than anything.” Laurel burbled slightly, and there was a noise like Dick had just kissed one of their foreheads. “But you’re still not allowed on the roof.”

“Aww.”

“What about Mom?” John asked. “I thought you loved _her_ that much.”

Dick was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was impossibly soft.

“I love all of my family and friends that much. And yes. That includes your mom.”

Barbara pressed a hand to her mouth, closing her eyes.

“Is that why you were so kissy with her when she was gonna have Laurel?”

“For your information young man, I was kissy with her while she was pregnant with you and with Troy, too.”

“Dad,” Troy said solemnly, “you’re mushy.”

He laughed wholeheartedly, and Barbara had to take a deep breath.

“Yeah, you know it, kiddo. Now you’re gonna wanna watch this, we’re almost at a really important bit.”

She was startled out of her reverie when from across the house, her computers beeped. With one more look over at her husband and children, she rolled over and put her headset on.

“Oracle here. What can I do for you?”

 

* * *

 

She heard her balcony door slide open just as she was finishing getting dressed for bed. All three of her children had been asleep for hours, but just after she’d performed her last checks of the night and shut down her system, she’d checked up on them nonetheless. Her sons in their beds, her daughter in her crib, all peaceful, all completely safe. Something she would never take for granted.

As she was settling down under the covers, the soft tread of booted feet on the linoleum approached her room. Barbara looked up just as Dick filled her doorway. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion; he cast a hand up over his masked face and through his hair.

“You okay?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He placed both hands on the small of his back and stretched backwards, groaning a bit. “None of the bad guys even got a decent hit on me.” Despite his obvious fatigue, just like that afternoon he beamed at her, taking off his mask and beginning to strip off his uniform. “They know by now I’m getting to you on time; none of them can keep us apart.”

“Yeah sure, honey, _that’s_ why you beat them.”

He grinned at her, flipping off the last of his clothes and pulling on pajama pants. She cast her eye up and down his body, still lean and strong, flat skin starred with even more scars from over the years...she nodded, smiling a bit to herself.

“You clearly can’t keep us apart either,” he teased. “You tired?”

“Actually, yeah. Those assassins were a real nuisance; thank god the girls are so competent. And then I had to keep a worm out of the Justice League’s systems; I hate it when the bad guys are good at their jobs.”

He clambered up onto the bed, climbing under the sheets next to her.

“That sounds really rough. How are your girls doing? Especially with all those new members?”

“Well the good news is, expanding the Birds has been great for everyone.” She exhaled softly. “My friends are really loving being mentors, and all those younger heroines are...well, they’re really happy and doing really well working beside such experienced women. You know, there are dozens of us now. I never would’ve thought that just Dinah and me would someday become this, that I would have so many friends and so many people looking up to me, especially all those young girls.”

He kissed her forehead.

“I think I could’ve told you how easy you are to love. And Cass and Steph could’ve told you the rest.”

“You’re pretty easy to love too, handsome.” She smiled at him. “And so are your sister and your sister-in-law. I hope that all your friends are doing okay too?”

“It’s been literal years now, and they still find it strange that we’ve all become full-fledged members of the Justice League. But yeah. Roy’s taking his family down to New Mexico next month, Wally’s up for promotion again at the lab, Garth’s planning his kid’s birthday party, and Donna got a big check from National Geographic and she’s supposed to have another exhibition of her work soon.” Dick inclined his head slightly to the side. “Oh, and Kori, Victor, Raven, Gar, Mal, Karen, and Joey are going to road-trip back to San Francisco in August for old times’ sake.”

“That sounds really fun. I’m sorry you’re not going.”

“I’m not. Kori gets road rage, Vic’s a terrible backseat driver, and Gar hogs the aux cord. Sometimes he even literally hogs the aux cord.”

Barbara laughed and affectionately ruffled his hair.

“Get some sleep, Dick. However amusing hearing about your friends always is, what we both need right now is rest.”

He kissed her cheek, then moved under the covers until they were slotted against one another, buried in the linen sheets and the soft white pillows, his arms around her waist.

She lifted one of his hands and pressed a kiss to the knuckles.

“G’night, Babs.”

“You just sleep now, Boy Wonder.”

 

* * *

 

When she woke up the next morning, Dick’s alarm didn’t go off. Careful so as not to wake him, she took her phone off the nightstand and sent a quick email to his precinct’s captain explaining that he wasn’t feeling well today. Then she showered quickly, pushing aside her usual jeans, cotton blouses, and t-shirts for her favorite blue sundress, running her fingers gently over the fabric. A tiny bit of makeup, also unusual for her, completed the look. 

By then, all her kids were awake.

“Your uncle’s going to be here soon,” she informed them, running a brush over Troy’s head. “You all excited to spend a couple days at Grandpa Bruce’s house?”

The boys cheered. Their sister cooed.

“But what about you and Dad?” John asked once he settled down, trying to put his shoes on. “What’re you guys gonna do?”

“Well, your dad and I are going to have some time together, just him and me.” She finished Troy’s hair and scooped up Laurel, putting the baby in her carrier while her sons grabbed their backpacks. “Today’s our anniversary.”

“What’s an anniversary?” Troy piped.

“Oh, I know this one,” John said excitedly. “It means this is the day they got married.”

“No, it isn’t. They got married ‘long time ago.”

“You’re both right. Today _was_ the day we got married, but it was exactly five years ago.” She reached down to stroke her daughter’s hair. “Your dad’s been working a lot, and he might not have had time to plan anything, but —”

The doorbell rang.

“And that’ll be your uncle.”

All of them quickly went to the door, the boys almost clambering over each other to open it up.

But much to everyone’s surprise, their expected guest was not the only one on the other side of the door. He was instead looking over the shoulder of the uniformed woman standing before them, and looking rather smug.

“I’ve got a delivery here for a Dr. Barbara Gordon-Grayson.”

“Um, that’s me.” She glanced at the young man in the doorway; nearly eighteen, copper-skinned and broad and six foot six, black hair neatly arranged, wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans. “I’m not expecting any deliveries. Damian, do you know something I don’t?”

“Well, good morning to you too, Barbara,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Damian, answer the question.”

“Perhaps.” He studied his nails, green eyes gleaming, casually towering over everyone in the vicinity. “You’re my sister-in-law, I like you now. I don’t want to ruin any potential surprises.”

“ _Damian..._ ”

“Uncle Dami?” Troy said shyly. “Will you pick me up?”

He did, taking the baby’s carrier and all her things in the other hand while John scrambled up his back and hung from his shoulders. He cast Barbara a knowing look while she signed for the package, still confused and a little annoyed.

“Damian, I like you too. You know I do. But you also know I can’t spend the day with your brother the way I planned if things keep coming up. Dinah’s leading the girls instead of me, I squared things up with your father’s crew last night, everything’s okay with our family, if you know that I forgot anything then you should — oh. My. God.”

Because the delivery woman had produced a massive bouquet of flowers, handing it to Barbara before she winked, tipped her hat, and moved backwards to the elevator. The kids ooh-ed, Damian inclined his head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, Barbara. Alright, who wants to go to the zoo?”

Her children cheered happily, clinging to their uncle, who offered her one genuine smile before he shut the door. As it clicked shut, she stared in amazement at the bouquet in her hands, arrayed in a dozen splendid colors, large and small blossoms in every shape imaginable, fringed with soft green. She gently touched one of the silken petals, her nail blending with the blush-pink.

Then, on a kind of instinct, she turned her wheelchair around.

Sure enough, leaning against the door was her husband. He was wearing a simple outfit, black jeans and a blue button-up, but he was still stunning as he looked at her, his eyes shining.

“Captain’s going to be so confused when he sees he got _two_ emails claiming I’m sick.”

“Oh my god,” she said again, still clutching the flowers, feeling her face heat up. “ _I_ wanted to surprise _you_.”

“You did! I thought you were so busy, I didn’t want you to go to all the trouble to arrange something —”

“I thought the same thing about you!” She laughed, brushing her hair out of her eyes, her cheeks feeling hotter. “Oh my god. What did you do?”

“Well, I made reservations for six o’clock at Simone’s. And I got you something.”

“Something other than half the Amazon rainforest?”

He went to the kitchen and rummaged around in the top of the cabinet where they kept their wedding china, which they almost never used. Then he withdrew a small wrapped rectangle, the wrapping paper patterned with bug-eyed cartoon birds.

She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, it was either that or the Hanukkah paper. But I’ll be sure to tell Jason _you_ thought it was funny.”

She was still laughing a little bit while she unwrapped her gift, the flowers balanced over her lap. Then she saw what it was —

— and her breath caught.

“So long story short, I realized that we have pictures of our wedding, we have pictures of us with each of our babies after they were born, but we had no pictures of the night we met. So, I went to the GCPD and asked to pull the security footage from the rooftop on that specific date, went through a lot of archived video and pictures, and...well.”

The frame was simple, weathered black wood, but the picture within was very unusual. A little black-haired boy in bright red, yellow, and green, a grappling rope and a bat-shaped boomerang in his hands, standing on the ledge overlooking the roof, smiling shyly. Facing him was a preteen girl in a skirt, striped tights, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, her long red hair streaming down her back, her freckled face open in surprise. The sun was setting in a flare of red, and the now-familiar Gotham night was beginning to settle over the two of them. In the background, the Bat-Signal blazed bright as the moon, bright as a fire.

Barbara was so overwhelmed she almost couldn’t speak. Hot tears prickled at her eyes.

“Happy anniversary,” he said gently. “Married five years, known each other for seventeen...but that? I was nine and you were nearly twelve, now we’re thirty-two and nearly thirty-five. Think those kids there would believe it?”

Twenty-three years. There was no way she could’ve predicted this twenty-three years ago. Never seen this coming. Never.

She began to do what she’d promised herself years ago that she would never do: let someone see her cry.

“Damn it, Dick, why do you always have to one-up me?”

He smiled softly at her, then paused.

“Wait, what did _you_ do?”

“Well, I...I have something for you, too.”

From one of the hidden compartments in her wheelchair, she pulled out two little nubs of paper and handed them to him.

“They’re for eight-thirty tonight. So we’ll have plenty of time to keep our reservation.”

Dick’s eyes grew very wide as he read them.

“Circus tickets? You...you got Haly’s Circus tickets?”

“They got it back to all its old splendor, apparently.” She wiped her eyes. “It’s just...your first home. Your first family. That you shared with me, so that...thanks to you, I’ll always remember learning to fly again. God, Dick, all that you’ve done for me...”

“And you’re part of my new family, the person I share my new home with.” He was crying too, the tears streaming down freely even as he smiled. “Babs, don’t you know what _you_ do for _me_? You’re my rock, my stability, my friend. This were worth waiting all that time for this, and far, far more. I love you.”

“I love _you_. You’re my friend too, you...you free me. And our lives are so goddamn dangerous, but with you, I’ve never been braver.”

She reached upwards, and he lifted her free of her chair, their gifts resting on the coffee table.

“It’s hard to believe, that we’ve already shared so much.” One arm cradled her thighs, though she couldn’t feel it, and one was wrapped around her waist, gentle but firm. “After all this time...”

“We’re not old yet, Dick.” She stroked his face. “Thirty-something is only old by superhero standards. We’ve still got lots of time left. And look, I don’t know if I can promise you that what with the dangers of our lives, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

He kissed her again.

“I understand that things aren’t always certain. But we can do it. Since we really, really got here, even after everything before.”

“Tell me all about it, Boy Wonder,” she murmured as he carried her towards the kitchen, ready to start their day together. It had grown, she thought, not just easier to just to be braver over the years, but also to just not be afraid of that uncertainty anymore. It was just so much easier to face everything when you weren’t alone.

 

* * *

 

The electric lights of the post-show games and sideshow still lit up the dark, and Gotham night had settled heavy, the way it always did. But through the heavy fog of pollution, a few stars still poked through — the way they always did. 

The summer night was heavy on her skin; she carried a slight ache in her shoulders, some more weight on her shoulders and in her body, and scars all over her skin. Behind her, Dick talked happily with several of the performers, the children of his parents’ friends, and their children. Ahead of her, cranes poked up along the growing skyline, knocking down the old lead-laced buildings, improving what was left until they just about poked above the clouds.

As it had for years, the Bat-Signal shone over the city for all to see. For some to fear, but for the rest to take heart in.

Barbara sat there under a million pink and white lights, bright music swirling around her, years and years seeming to stretch past her in both directions.

Her reverie was only broken by a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, love.”

She sighed softly, feeling her body relax. Then she reached up and took his hand, their fingers interlocking.

“It’s past eleven,” Dick continued. “Do you want to go home?”

Barbara looked back to the skyline, at Gotham as it continued to be built, hundreds of years after its founding. Dirty and cruel and awful, but it was their city, and it was still building, still pressing on. The people within still trying.

Meanwhile, the rubes gasped in awe while the circus folk laughed and unwound, the night was lit with the call for their family of mysterious yet beloved superheroes, the air smelled like neon burning and cotton candy, and she simultaneously felt twelve and eighteen and twenty-four and twenty-nine and thirty-five and like she had already lived a long life.

But she’d said it herself: her life wasn’t anywhere near over.

She looked up into the eyes of one of her closest friends, her most longtime source of love and uncertainty. The husband she’d never thought she’d have.

“You know what? I’d like to stay out on the town a while longer.”

He tilted his head to the side, his smile full of playfulness and life.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Still holding her hand, Dick began to move off, and she followed, until he was almost running and she was rolling after one-handed, both of them laughing, her heart racing with excitement and soft with affection.

Side by side, hand in hand, smiling as they went on, together through the endless stretch of their city’s night.


End file.
